


Lullabies

by StopLookingHere



Series: Fifty Two Levihan Fanfictions in Fifty Two Weeks [27]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Yuri, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopLookingHere/pseuds/StopLookingHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>27/52: a song or a poem</p><p>Ymir and Historia can't get their baby to sleep. Ymir remembers songs from a time before the walls.</p><p>(A continuation of New Beginnings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullabies

**Author's Note:**

> it's not hard to see who my favorite composer is (haha).

The Reiss household was, for once, quiet.

Being that the two women in charge had their little baby girl now, all wrapped up in the most colorful things they could find, there never seemed to be a dull moment in the Reiss household. If it wasn’t a baby crying, it was Ymir telling Historia about her life outside the walls. If it wasn’t Ymir slowly drawing a bow across a fiddle to fill the household they shared, it was the gentle click-clack of Historia’s knitting needles.

And yet, it was quiet, until Ymir poked her head into her partner’s bedroom with furrowed eyebrows. “Violet’s not sleeping,” she explained in a hushed voice. “I’m worried.”

‘It’s not that late,” Historia reasoned, setting down the tin of shoe polish she was using to condition her military boots. “And she’s not crying. Why are you worried?”

“Because she’s just staring at the ceiling. I thought she was already asleep after dinner, but then she woke up at some point and she didn’t sleep much last night. She needs to sleep,” Ymir whispered. Her voice was gaining a sense of urgency, enough for Historia to sigh and get up from her chair.

Ymir was indeed right; baby Violet lay quietly in her crib, her eyes wide and glassy. It was like she might be sleeping with her eyes open, except her eyes moved when she saw her mothers walk in. Historia examined the baby for a moment before reaching a hand inside the wooden crib to lay it against the baby’s forehead.

“I wish we had CD’s,” mumbled Ymir. Historia raised an eyebrow, to which Ymir explained, “They were plastic discs that had music written in them. You could put them in an electronic player and they’d just loop on and on. My mom used to put on Tchaikovsky, and we’d dance and dance to the Nutcracker Suite all day.”

Historia didn’t know who Tchaikovsky was. “Can you sing something from that?”

Her wife paused, the tip of her tongue resting on her upper teeth as she tried to remember the tunes. “There aren’t words. It was all classical.”

“Everything from your time is classical,” joked HIstoria.

Ymir didn’t sing very well, a painfully clear fact after their first couple months of dating. She did have a lovely voice for humming though, something that Historia was only blessed with when she was in the late hours of labor some months ago. She actually recognized this one from those hours, a slow, tiptoe-y tune. Before they knew it, Violet was asleep, stretched out in the cozy crib.

There were bags under Ymir’s eyes and Historia seemed to never relax her face, but in that moment, they were just as peaceful as the baby in the crib.

 


End file.
